Lower Levels
by denise1
Summary: A series of short fic from Walter's point of view
1. TDY

Lower Levels One:

TDY

by

Denise

The Sergeant strode down the familiar halls, automatically saluting the officers he passed. He had been summoned to General Kaiser's office and he couldn't be late. The general hadn't  been specific about the reason but he knew just the same. The old man was going to give him his next assignment. There was a lot of that going around with the base being shut down and all.

He walked into the General's outer office, nodding at Mrs. O'Reilly, General Kaiser's civilian secretary, who was carefully packing up some of the files and shredding others. He knew she wasn't getting re-assigned but was going to retire and move to Albuquerque to live with her son Robbie and help with her soon to be born first grandchild. He was going to miss her and her homemade chocolate chip cookies. She'd added a welcome homey touch to the place.

"Good morning Mildred. Is he in?" he asked, smiling at the woman.

"Walter, good morning. Yes he's in and waiting for you."

"Any idea where I'm going?" he asked, fully aware that not much happened on the base without Mildred knowing about it.

"You know I can't tell you. It'd spoil all his fun," she chided gently. Walter rolled his eyes and knocked on the general's door.

"Come."

He opened the door and walked into the medium sized office. He stopped in front of General Kaiser's desk, brought himself to attention and saluted. "Master Sergeant Davis reporting as ordered sir," he intoned, fixing his eyes on the bare, nail studded wall behind the general.

General Kaiser returned the salute. "At ease Davis."

"Thank you sir."

"Have a seat." Davis sat down, trying to reign in his curiosity.  "How long have you been at this base Davis?" the general asked, twirling a pen in his fingers.

"Five years sir."

"Five years. That's right. And in those five years you've worked wonders in your department. Took a group of scatter-brained non-coms and turned them into the best, most organized group of people on this base."

"Thank you sir."

"That organizational skill is why I'm giving you this assignment. It's a TDY but I don't want you to think you're getting it because something's wrong  or because I'm dumping it on you."

"Yes sir."

"Davis, an old friend of mine is getting his last assignment. He's being sent half way across the country to close down some failed top secret program. Basically it's a can of worms no one else wants to deal with so it's being dumped on him because...well it is his last tour of duty and he can't refuse.

He's going to walk into...a hell of a mess and he's being expected to put humpty dumpty back together so they can neatly just make it go away."

"Sir if I may?..."

"Why doesn't the present commander clean up his own mess? Because General West FUBARED things up then used his connections to get out of it before the brown stuff really hit the fan."

"I see sir," Davis said carefully.

"Davis, this is an assignment that'll last six months, nine tops. I know you were hoping for Edwards. That you wanted to work with the shuttle program out there. What I'm asking you to do is transfer to Bluebook and help shut it down. Then you'll get Edwards."

"But sir..." he protested. He didn't want to bargain. He wanted California. His girl was stationed there. And he may only be a sergeant but he certainly had enough seniority to have his transfer approved.

"Walter I...You and your staff have been invaluable to me, especially these last few months. What I'm asking is more of a favor than an order. I know your girlfriend is stationed at Edwards. And that is one big reason you want to go there. But I also know George is an old friend of mine, who is going to be going through one of the toughest times of his life. He doesn't want to retire, he's being forced out. And he's walking into a facility that...let's just say there's more than one snake in the grass around there. I want him to have at least one person on his staff he can trust." Kaiser paused and looked at the man sitting before him. "This is a favor, not an order. If you don't want to go, just say so and you'll be at Edwards by the end of the month."

The general fell silent and Walter contemplated his words. True, he really wanted to get out to California, stop having a long-distance relationship but...he and General Kaiser were...it sounded weird but they were partners. The general was one of the first CO's he'd had that had treated him as part of the team not just the sergeant down in data processing.

Over the past five years the general had made the decisions and he and his group had carried them out.

Working together, they'd turned the dilapidated base into something to be proud of...right before they were downsized into oblivion. "Six months sir?" he asked, his decision already made.

"Nine tops," Kaiser promised. "You'll like George. He's a little gruff, but fair."

Walter looked up and saw the truth in the general's eyes. In the five years he'd known the man, General Kaiser had never lied to him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mildred looked up as the door opened. Walter stepped out and closed it behind him. She bit back a smile at the slightly shell shocked look on his face. He'd been in the general's office for nearly two hours.  Barely long enough to process all the information he'd been given.

"Cookie?" she offered.

Wordlessly he reached into her jar and snagged one, plopping down in an empty chair at the same time.

"Have you seen this?" he asked, holding up the manila folder with 'classified' stamped on it in big red letters.

"Who do you think put it together?"

"I...it's incredible," he stammered, absently taking a bite of the cookie.

"That it is," she agreed.

"And they're shutting it down."

"Apparently."

They sat there in silence for a moment, Walter finishing his cookie. Suddenly he sat upright and checked his watch. "Oh man, I nearly forgot. I told Laura I'd call her...now."

"Then you better run," the elder woman advised. Following her suggestion he hurried from the room. She shook her head and smiled, he was going to have fun explaining all this to his girlfriend, considering all he couldn't tell her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I thought you were sure you were going to get Edwards," Laura complained.

"Hon, you know how this works. Besides this...thing should only last a few months."

"Walt..."

"It's only for a few months. I promise. Then I'll get Edwards. The general even put it in writing," he said.

"But Colorado...you hate the snow and you're going to a place where they measure it in feet."

"I know but..."

"It's a favor for the old man," she finished, well aware that they had a rapport. "OK. Go. Good luck and maybe I'll get some leave and come see you," she relented. When they'd started this relationship they both knew there would be compromises. And losing him to some secret place in Colorado was a small price to pay to get him at Edwards. And having a three star owing you favors wasn't bad either.

They talked for a few more minutes, tentatively arranging to spend Christmas together, somewhere.

Once he hung up he pulled out the folder and opened it again. He scanned over the reports contained within, his eyes settling on words like Abydos, Ra, slaves and Dr. Daniel Jackson, KIA.

If nothing else this was going to be an interesting TDY.

XXXfinXXX


	2. In the Deep End

Lower Levels Two:

In the Deep End

By

Denise

_Dear Laura,_

_Let me tell you about my first day._

_First of all, I'm working 20 plus stories underground. I passed through enough checkpoints staffed with armed guards to make me hope the commissary is a good one, cause it's literally going to take an act of congress for me to get a pizza delivered._

_I arrived all gussied up in my dress blues, ready to make a good impression on the general. Instead I walked into a war zone. Or, more accurately, the after math of one. _

_Medics rushed past me wheeling gurneys bearing shrouded figures. I wonder vaguely if there's been some accident as I follow their path to a large room. What we're now calling the gateroom. That's where we keep the Stargate if you haven't already figured that part out._

_Anyway, I walked into the room, sidestepping the various armed guards and puddles of blood and I don't want to know what else on the floor. The general stood out admidst the chaos like a lighthouse on the coast._

_I think I'd know he was a general even out of uniform. Just like General Kaiser, once they pin that first set of stars on your shoulder it changes a man…or woman. It gives them an innate aura of authority._

_I walked up to him and present myself in a way that would have made my drill Sergeant proud. "Master Sergeant Walter Davis reporting for duty sir," I said, snapping off a crisp salute._

_He just stared at me, frowning a bit. "Davis?" he asked, absentmindedly returning my salute. He thought for another minute, oblivious to the barely organized turmoil going on around us. Recognition dawned on his face. "Kaiser sent you?" he asked, his voice slightly tinged with a Midwestern twang._

_What's he like? You're asking yourself. Well...he's bald. Bald and a little over weight. Sorta reminds me of the actor who played Scully's dad on X-files._

_Anyway, I replied 'Yes sir,' as I handed him my orders. He took the papers from me, but didn't even look at them. _

_"You've been briefed?" he asked me, gesturing for me to follow him as we leave the grisly scene and climb a short flight of steps into a room that had been hidden behind a large, gray steel, blast door._

_"Yes sir."_

_"Three men survived the first Abydos mission. I want them here," he ordered in a cold, determined voice.  In an instant I know I don't ever want this man mad at me. There was 100 pure anger glittering in his eyes._

_After giving me this duty, he turned and stomped up the circular metal staircase, his steps echoing in the empty room, leaving me alone in this place surrounded by shrouded computers and blank monitors. _

_So much for a warm welcome. _

_Here I was, basically buried alive, all alone in this room surrounded by equipment I don't know, given the task of finding three men who could literally be anywhere in the world. Oh, and did I mention people died down here?_

_Talk about being thrown in the deep end._

_Let me tell you Laura, there was a minute when I wanted nothing more than to jump back in the elevator, to heck with doing Kaiser a favor, and see if I could worm my way back onto my transport plane._

_Instead I dug around until I found a phone that worked, pulled out the folder and started calling people._

_Six hours and one sore ear later I had all three men located and was supervising the work crews that were turning things on and getting the control room back to full operational status. Though to be honest, I'm still not quite sure what half the machines do._

_During a lull I found the general's office and knocked on the door. I entered the room and saw him unloading a small box of belongings. It seemed sorta odd to me for a man to be surrounding himself with personal stuff when he was supposed to be moving things out of the facility. But I learned a long time ago to never question a general._

_"Sir, I located Kawalski and Ferretti. They're on their way and should be here by 1700."_

_"And O'Neill?" He asked me, carefully placing a statue of an eagle on the oak bookshelf behind his desk._

_"Sir. He lives right here in Colorado Springs. I've been calling and leaving messages…" Six messages to be exact._

_"But?"_

_"Sir. He hasn't returned any of them. Maybe he's out of town."_

_He snorted. "Very well. I'll deal with O'Neill later." He paused a second. "Have you been studying the ops manuals?"_

_"Sir?" I asked him, not really sure where he was going with this. Had I done something wrong already?_

_"Davis. Everyone involved with the project is gone. And considering the large number of civilians involved the first time, they're not going to be recalled. Right now there isn't a single person on this base who can run that thing," he said, motioning through his window towards the Stargate just barely visible through the briefing room window. _

_"Have you studied enough to be able to operate the gate?"_

_I thought for a minute. Sure I knew how to work it IN THEORY… Then again, hundreds of officers know how to launch a nuclear missile IN THEORY.  None of them have ever done it. _

_"I think so sir. Though to be honest, I concentrated more on shutting things down than reactivating them," I admitted, wondering just what I've gotten myself into._

_"That's understandable. I expected to be overseeing the distribution of equipment and personnel not having to deal with a hostile alien attacking us and having to notify next of kin." He motioned towards the five folders sitting in stark contrast to the black blotter on his desk._

_"Yes sir." What else could I say? Looked like he'd been thrown into the deep end too._

_"Bone up Sergeant. From all indications we will be opening the gate again. And this time it will be to 'resolve the issue'," he said, the tone of his voice telling me his 'resolution' was going to be a fairly permanent one. "I don't want that resolution sitting on the ramp because the military can't duplicate the work of some snot nosed civilians."_

_So…I spent the next eight hours studying the notes and the computers, trying to make sure I knew exactly what I was doing._

_Did you know that most of those symbols we work with are constellations? They say the gates are thousands and thousands of years old, so it makes sense. The stars are the one thing that isn't going to change much over the millennia._

_We got Kawalski and Ferretti here pretty easily. Colonel O'Neill was being…difficult. So General Hammond sent Major Samuels to go fetch him. Something Samuels wasn't too crazy about doing. I think he thought it was beneath him or something. And I think that's exactly why Hammond sent him to do it._

_Turns out Samuels practically ran the place in the months between West's departure and Hammond's arrival. I think he got used to being the top dog and didn't want to go back to being 2IC._

_I've watched how he acts. Through a dozen gestures and words I've seen him challenge the old man. It's going to be interesting to see how General Hammond reacts. Will he accept the challenge and knock Samuels back into his place or is he just too tired, too close to retirement to fight?_

_I hope it's the former. This will be the longest six months in history if I have to spend it guarding my back from THAT man. You ever worked with a slime ball? Slicked back hair, oily demeanor that suggests they'll just slide out of your grasp the first time you try to pin any responsibility on them? That's Major Samuels. I'll bet he's done so much butt kissing in his career his lips are set on permanent pucker._

_Where was I?…Oh yeah. We managed to get O'Neill here and after a little...discussion,  I opened the gate for the first time. I gotta tell you, every time a chevron lit up I was crossing my fingers. And when the seventh one lit up and the gate opened…I was…well relieved seems inadequate but, I was incredibly relieved. Whatta you know? I did it right. I opened the gate and Colonel O'Neill sent an interplanetary message._

_And a couple of days later I sent people through. Let me tell you, that was something. Watching those people walk up that ramp and step through that shimmering blue surface…then the wormhole snapped shut and they were gone. Just gone. To another planet._

_Soon afterwards I took a break outside and found myself looking up at the stars. They were out there. I opened the wormhole that sent people to another planet. I wonder if this sense of wonder, this feeling of amazement is what those engineers at NASA felt in 1969 when they went outside, looked at the moon and realized their efforts put someone there?_

_This is so cool._

Walter paused and re-read what he'd written. He couldn't send this. Laura would never believe him. And the whole letter violated more regulations on national security than he cared to think about.

He carefully tore the sheet off the pad, folded it up and tucked it away. Maybe if the project ever got declassified he could send it. Or save it for when he was writing his memoirs. Or for proof in his old age that his memories were real and it really happened.

He looked at the blank sheet in front of him and tried to come up with a way to relate what he was doing to his girlfriend without violating national security and getting himself court-martialed.

He shifted his gaze and looked up at the item sitting on top of his computer monitor. He smiled. No body had seemed to want it so he'd adopted it. It had no real value but was important to him. It was the first thing he'd ever sent through the Stargate. It went to and returned from another planet. All the tech, all the specialized equipment they seemed to have at their disposal and they'd used this. He ran his fingers over the battered Kleenex box with 'thanks send more' scrawled on the side.

He looked out the window at the dormant gate, the dozen armed Marines watching the techs installing the iris. He hoped O'Neill found and brought back Dr. Jackson. He really wanted to meet the guy.

fin


	3. Faces of the Enemy

Lower Levels Three:

Faces of the Enemy

By

Denise

I sit at my console checking the readings. Though to be totally truthful, I only understand part of them…most of them. Oh don't get me wrong; I know what they're supposed to say…just not necessarily what they mean. Of course it doesn't help that I'm still having a tough time reconciling the fact that the equipment I'm working on is the same stuff that sends people to other planets. Cool.

This job seems more like a fantasy movie than a real assignment. I'm sending people to other planets. And they're coming here. All the refugees are gone now but for a little while this place was literally over run by aliens. And they all looked so human. That was the freaky part. Put them in jeans and a t-shirt and no one would have known they were born under alien suns.

There's just one left now. The jaffa Teal'c. I know Colonel O'Neill really likes the guy but…there's just something about him. I don't know. It's hard to read that inscrutable face of his.

I hear footsteps and turn to see Captain Carter climbing the short flight of steps up to the control room. With all the steps in this place the ADA would have a field day in here.

The captain is still a bit of an enigma to me. A tech head that likes to blow up stuff with the boys. And I wonder about her. I've caught General Hammond giving her some definitely fond looks. Maybe they've served together before or something. She seems ok but I'm still trying to figure out all the players here in our little top-secret playground.

Every base I've ever been on has had one thing in common. Technically we're all on the same side but there are more factions and cliques than in any high school in the world.

Half the skill in surviving in the military is knowing whom to trust.

Major Samuels was like that. I'm glad he's gone. Something about him set me on edge. No matter how I tried I never could get over the feeling that I just couldn't trust him.

His absence means one less snake in the grass for me to worry about but who really knows how many more there are. I hate it when I feel like people I can't necessarily trust surround me. The worst part is, you don't usually suspect them, until it's too late that is.

From experience I know the best thing for me to do is concentrate on doing my job and let the rest sort itself out. Though it would be nice if there were some convenient color-coding. Trustworthy people can wear blue…we'll flag the snakes with a big red tag around their necks or something.

"Sergeant," she says as she stops beside me.

"Captain," I acknowledge. "Can I help you ma'am?"

"I have a couple of addresses to try," she says eagerly.

"Aah ma'am…" She can't mean to send anyone through…can she?

"Not to go there or anything. Not yet anyway," she hurries to reassure. "The dialing program just came up with these two addresses and I want to make sure they work before I get the probes on the ramp." Oh. That makes sense. The general warned me this would happen. I take the slip of paper from her and punch in the symbols. She leans in and looks. "Hey, that's a good idea."

"What is ma'am?"

"Putting the symbols directly on the keys. Sure beats the heck out of trying to memorize whole addresses."

I shrug. It's how they were when I got here. We sit there in silence and watch the gate spin. I see her gnawing on her lip. So she's nervous. Guess I would be too if it was my program that is going to be the basis for all we're going to do.

I see her let out twin sighs of relief as first one then the other address work.

"Thank you Sergeant," she says getting to her feet and giving me a genuine smile. "I'll speak to the general about sending probes through," she says eagerly, obviously in a hurry to go report her success.

I understand her enthusiasm. Chances are SG-1 will go to one of these planets. That's some hefty incentive for doing the job.

As she leaves the control room I feel a twinge of envy. For the first time in years I wish my path had been more suited to combat than administration. To think a gateway to alien planets is just on the other side of that glass…and the chances of me ever going through it are slim to none. I've started to catch myself daydreaming about what it's like. How it would feel to stand on another planet. It's a fantasy come true. Unfortunately it's likely to remain a fantasy. It's taken a week for the captain's program to come up with two possibilities. And we don't even know yet if the planets will be suitable to exploration. Even with nine teams, the way things are going they'll be lucky go off world every couple of months or so. And I sincerely doubt they'll need a tech to trail along.

Still, to quote my neighbor's kid…I wanna go.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Why don't we get you to the infirmary?" a quiet voice asks. I look away from the morbid scene below to see Captain Carter standing beside me, concern and something else on her face.

"Ma'am?"

"I'm no doctor but I know a broken arm when I see one," she says nodding towards the arm I'm holding cradled in my lap. Oh it's definitely broken. I heard the bone snap. Actually it was weird. I heard it before I felt it.

"Ma'am…" I start hesitantly. As much as my arm hurts I can't just abandon my post. What if the goa'uld come knocking again? Someone has to be here to close the iris and set the auto-destruct…or more importantly dis-arm it.

"It's ok Sergeant," she says, nodding towards the techs drawn to the control room by all the fuss. As if reading her mind one of them steps over, willing to take my place.

And I'm willing to let them. Now that the adrenaline has faded my arm is starting to hurt…bad. Every beat of my heart feels like razor blades through my arm.

I nod and carefully get to my feet hoping I don't look as shaky as I feel. There is an infirmary just an elevator's ride away and I'm sure there are some nice drugs there with my name on them.

I slowly make my way down the stairs careful not to jar my arm. The captain follows me. I guess she's decided I need an escort. Either that or she just wants to get away from the scene in the control room.

I can't say that I blame her. The tragic image of Major Kawalsky lying there is one that's going to haunt me for a bit. I've never been this close to death before.

Just as we reach the elevator it opens and the medics scurry out pushing a gurney. I bite my tongue to keep from telling them they can slow down. Their patient isn't going anywhere.

We ride up to level 21 in silence. I can see Captain Carter rubbing the back of her neck. Now I remember. She's nursing a concussion.

"How did it happen?" I ask quietly, preparing myself for the 'it's none of your business' rebuke.

"Huh?" She looks at me, a small frown on her face.

"Major Kawalsky. When do you thing he was…" I press ahead, and then stop. What is the correct term for having an alien take over your body?

"We think it was on Chulak," she explains. "It's the only Goa'uld world we've been on."

The door opens and we walk down the short hall to the infirmary. She calls a nurse over and points out my injury.

Her self-appointed mission done she turns, presumably to head back to where the action is.

"Captain?" I call out.

She turns. "Sergeant?"

"What was in Major Kawalsky…do you think you'll run into more of them?"

She gives me a rueful grin. "Probably," she says then turns and leaves the room.

A nurse urges me to lie down, bribing me with a nice shot of morphine before they look into setting my arm. As I stare at the cement ceiling I remember the cold look on Major Kawalsky's face. How could one tiny being turn such a nice guy into a cold-blooded murderer?

And he managed to hide from us for days before he was discovered. His cruel interior was totally masked by a jovial façade. I've been trying to figure out who's who around here and another variable has just been tossed into the mix. Anyone who goes through that gate could return an enemy. They could be possessed by aliens, forced to turn upon their friends. Sentenced to death or what could be seen as a fate worse than death. And there will be no sign, no convenient label to help us tell good from bad. Talk about not knowing whom to trust.

All of a sudden staying on this side of the gate doesn't seem so boring after all.

Fin


	4. Selective Memory

Lower Levels Four:

Selective Memory

By

Denise

Sargent Davis walked down the halls of the SGC unconsciously scratching his right arm. He'd just got the cast off the day before and after six weeks of having it encased in fiberglass, it felt so good just to scratch.

He walked into the infirmary pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. All he had to do was get Dr. Warner to sign off and he was back to unrestricted active duty.

"I told you Doctor Fraiser it's just bruises." He heard a voice say from behind a curtain.

"Captain. You were kidnapped, tied up, dragged halfway across the planet, sold to a warlord, bought back by your CO and got in a knife fight with a guy twice your size. Forgive me if I want to make sure nothing else happened." He heard another female voice say in a tone that left zero room for argument. Must be the new Doctor he'd heard was coming.

"Nothing. Else. Happened." He heard Captain Carter insist. Her words punctuated by the slight thunk of her booted feet hitting the floor as she hopped off the gurney.

"Captain…"

"Look Doctor. I'm fine. Really. I've got a few bumps and bruises. Noting else. Scouts honor. He didn't…the guys got there before he could… I'm fine. All I want to do is take a nice hot shower and debrief so I can forget this humiliating mission ever happened." He heard her plead quietly.

"Ok." He heard the doctor sigh. "You're fine. That doesn't change the fact that I still need to draw blood and do the normal post mission tests. Let me go get the stuff. We'll do the basics and I'll give you a reprieve until tomorrow," she bargained in a voice that told Davis she was well used to dealing with reluctant patients.

"Ok," Sam agreed and he heard the slight creak of the bed as she hopped back up.

The curtain opened and a petite brunette in the requisite white coat walked out. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Sargent Davis ma'am. I just need a doc to sign off so I can get back on duty," he explained, holding up the paper.

"Ooh. Ok. Let me finish with Captain Carter and I'll be right with you."

He nodded and watched her walk off, leaving him standing. With a shrug he hopped up on the next bed to wait. He glanced across at the pensive captain who was sitting on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs, clearly wishing she were somewhere else.

"Tough mission ma'am?"

She looked up, startled as though she hadn't realized anyone else was in the room. "Probably my last," she said morosely.

"Ma'am?" He hadn't heard any scuttlebutt of a transfer out of the SGC.

"Sargent. If a member of your team got kidnapped, through no fault of her own I might add, it was all Doctor Jackson's idea I wear that…that dress and play anthropologist, dragged for miles on horseback and sold for ransom what would you do?" she asked angrily.

"Umm…well..."

"I'll tell you what you'd do. If it were one of your buddies you'd buy him back and laugh about it over a beer. It'd be one huge joke. But if it was a female then you'd start in with that whole 'this is why we don't allow females in combat', 'you're a liability', ' we'll bring back an all male team next time', crap."

"Captain?"

"It wasn't my fault. It was all HIS idea. 'Play along with the natives Carter', 'let's not upset their way of life Captain', 'archaeologists do it all the time'. I didn't see one of THEM getting dressed up in some costume from…from a B movie….a BAD B movie. NO. They just stood by and yucked it up," she ranted. "And you want to know the worst part? No one's going to remember that I beat the guy. That I took on some Neanderthal in a fight and WON. NO. What they're going to remember is that I was a liability. That somehow it's all my fault. And that's all the excuse he's going to need."

"Excuse me ma'am?" Davis asked, totally confused. He felt like he'd changed channels in the middle of a daytime soap opera.

"I'm only on SG-1 because the general MADE the colonel have me. And now he has a perfect reason to get me off the team." She stopped abruptly and he could hear the emotion in her voice. He swore he saw tears start to fill her eyes.

"Captain…" He started to get off the bed but she hopped down first.

"Look. Tell the doc I'll be back. I just…I'll be back," she said, fleeing the room. Stunned he watched her go. She disappeared around the threshold just as the doctor returned.

"Where's Captain Carter?" she asked, setting down a tray.

"She…had to take care of something. She did say she'd be back as soon as it was done." It was the truth…close enough anyway.

The doctor looked out the door, a frown on her face. "Well if I can't take care of her I…what did you need Sergeant?"

"My arm ma'am. It was broken six weeks ago. I need you to sign off so I can get back to work," he reminded.

"Ooh. Right. Sorry," she apologized, gently taking his arm.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The signed paper in his hand, Walter stood outside General Hammond's office door and tried not to listen to the voices seeping through the thin material. Billions of dollars on computers and it sounded like the door was made of plywood.

"General. Daniel said it would be ok."

"Colonel. I don't want excuses."

"I'm not making excuses sir. I'm just telling you that with the information that I had at the time it was a sound decision. Daniel was fine with it, Moughal promised she'd be fine and Carter was fine with it. She felt a little left out but fine. It doesn't change the fact that I screwed up. I allowed us to be split up and nearly got Carter killed. That was MY fault. Don't punish her because I made a bad call."

"Colonel there are reasons females are not allowed in combat. I would be well within my purview to have the captain assigned to a secondary contact team. Chances are that this world isn't the only one who will see the captain as a second class citizen."

"And there's every chance the next planet we go to will be run by Amazons and some short skirted Xena type will take a fancy to Daniel. Look sir. We're still figuring out where all the doors lead in this base much less how to behave on an alien planet. General, with all due respect, we're making this up as we go along. What happened on that planet was a mistake. One that we got ourselves out of. And we've learned that NO ONE gets left alone off world. No matter how safe it looks," O'Neill said reasonably.

"And the captains performance? No reservations about a scientist?"

"Her performance was fine. She kept her head and got out of a sticky situation relatively unscathed. I have no problem with her performance. Or her presence on SG-1. Though we may have a little talk about who she picks a fight with."

"Good. We'll talk later on updating off world protocols. Dismissed."

"Yes sir."

Walter stepped back as the door opened and Colonel O'Neill stalked out, still in his combat gear. He watched him walk down the hall then knocked on the general's door.

"Come." Walter walked in and stood at attention. "At ease, Davis. You're cleared for duty?" the general said, waving towards the chairs.

"Yes sir. Thank you sir. Just now," he replied holding out the paper.

"Good. Good. The place hasn't been the same."

"Thank you sir."

"Tell me Sargent. Do you have any family?"

"Sir?"

"Wife, kids…'

"No sir. Just a girlfriend and a brother."

Hammond nodded. "Ever been in the situation of letting someone risk their life because it's what they want to do, what they've trained for?"

"General?"

"I know Captain Carter. Her father is an old family friend. When Jake found out she was in my command he called me and I told him his daughter would be nice and safe here studying deep space radar telemetry. Little does he know I'm sending his little girl off to alien planets where she could get killed or kidnapped," he said, referring to the most recent mission.

"It's her job sir. And one, with all due respect, she'll resent the hell out of if you take it away from her."

Hammond nodded again. "Glad you're back Sargent," he said, dismissing the man.

Walter got up and left the room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A few hours later he sat at a table, eating his lunch. At least the cook here was a good one. Cheyenne Mountain was on the fringes of Colorado Springs and the nearest fast food restaurant was a few miles away. Just far enough to insure you'd spend three fourths of your lunch hour just driving back and forth.

"The guy kidnapped her?" he heard an Airman say from a near-by table.

"Yep. Tied her up and rode away. And get this. The going rate for captains now-a-days is one 9mm pistol."

"Did he at least get a full clip?" another man asked with a laugh. "Or do the bullets cost extra?"

Davis finished his lunch, listening as the banter got louder and more ridiculous. Unfortunately the captain had been right. No one remembered she'd taken out some guy twice her size. Unless…

Tossing his napkin on his tray he gained his feet and crossed to them. He paused by the table and waited until they noticed him. "I'd be careful if I were you," he warned.

"Careful? About what?"

"Didn't you hear?"

"Hear what? What else happened?" One of them demanded, his tone suggesting his mind was thinking the worst.

Davis leaned in, resting his tray on the table and made a show of glancing around. "What she did to the guy that grabbed her?"

"No. What?" They asked, eager for fresh gossip.

"Nah. I shouldn't," he said, straightening back up.

"Tell!"

"He tried, well you know…She got a knife and before you know it she had him on his knees, crying, begging for mercy," he said.

"No way."

"Yes way. Ask her. This dude…he was bigger than the Jaffa and she took him down." They looked at him skeptically just as Captain Carter and Teal'c walked into the commissary. "Just ask her," he said, thanking the fates for a bit of good timing. He saw them studying the pair, comparing their sizes.

He picked up his tray and walked away, listening to the speculation build behind him. "They'll only remember what you tell them to," he muttered, heading back to the control room to finish his shift

Fin


End file.
